a journey through the daze of motherhood & more
Today I am posting over at Danielle’s awesome blog ‘A Dose of Dannie’ about what its like to live with a parent with depression.
If you have a loved one who suffers from depression and sometimes feel isolated or like no one understands then please visit:
http://www.adoseofdannie.com/2011/07/guest-post-susan-from-mummydaze.html
and have a read.
A few days ago I saw an article about mail-order hymens. Yep. From just $29.95 you can be re-virginised. I was going to put a comical slant on this story and so desperately tried but the fact that women are out there buying fake hymens to, in some cases, avoid death, made it much too sombre to laugh about.
Instead I will go with this:
- Why, when these women live in western societies such as Britain and North America, do they still feel pressure to be virgins in their marriage? You can bet your backside the guy has spent most of his years trying to screw everything that walks. And the wife needs to be pure? Dear double-standard? Kiss my ass!
- Why, when these women live in modern societies are they still being shipped to their ‘cultural home countries’ to be married? Why don’t these women have the same rights as us to choose who they want to spend the rest of our lives with?
- Shouldn’t education be a tool to help them escape such an oppressive future? If these women don’t want to get married, do they not have the education and tools to remain single and financially independent? Why crumble under the pressure of cultural expectation?
- Do these women really want to enter marriages based on deceit? If the man does not respect you virgin or not, then I say again, in countries such as ours, you should be able to say: kiss my ass!
- Why do these families move to modern Western societies if they are just going to continue to espouse antiquated notions and ideals? I understand you shouldn’t have to completely lose your cultural heritage when you move countries. However, how about blending the best of both world rather than making your daughters lie to fit some ridiculous ideal?
I guess this news article brought upon a whole bundle of why, why, fucking why?
It never ceases to amaze me that people choose to move from restrictive nations to the more liberated Western society and then continue to instill hardcore old fashioned values and rules on their Western born/raised children. It’s not fair.
Wouldn’t it have made sense to just stay where they were and continue to live in the manner and by the rules to which they are accustomed rather than moving to a place where they abhor the freedoms we have?
Now, to be clear, racist I am not. I am the first born generation of immigrant parents, and understand how difficult it is to combine elements of your cultural background with the values of the country you live in.
But as my parents said to me whilst I was growing up, where we live is our home now.
If you’re going to take advantage of the monetary gains and freedoms of this great place, then you are to marry this world and your old world together, and create a new world that works for you.
This does not mean forgetting where you came from but it does mean accepting all that is here - values, laws, language, morals – everything . It also means leaving the bits of your cultural background that do not fit here behind.
Why can’t these girls and their families do the same?
Does your cultural background impact on the way you live?
Want to read more? Here is a full link to the story:
http://www.torontosun.com/2011/07/08/mail-order-hymens-available-to-canadians
Lately I have been thinking of idols. Not, not those youngsters trying to break into showbiz via American or Australian Idol or any other variation of that show. But characters – whether they be real or fictional – that display the characteristics that you aspire to.
Why all the idol chatter? (haha) Well, as the mother of two girls, I hope that my girls find a female figure of some sort that helps them aspire to be the strong, intelligent, independent and ambitious girls I know they can be.
Now, while I know it’s true that the best idols are those around you, like your mum, grandma and other female friends or relatives, I still think it’s important to have someone to aspire to that is outside of that circle. Someone that you can secretly identify with and idolise, without anyone else knowing. Why? Because sometimes you will gain secret strength from your private idol. Strength that will get you through any hard times you may have with your family or friends
When I was a girl my ultimate idols were She-Ra (Princess of Power) and Princess Leia from the Star Wars trilogy.
Why? Because these were chicks that could kick some major butt and take care of themselves.
They lived life by their own principles and didn’t shy away from standing up for what they believe in. They were independent and strong yet compassionate to those who needed help or couldn’t stick up for themselves.
For better or worse, I aspired to be a strong girl like them. Now do I think my idols contributed to the person I am today? I don’t 100% know. But I do know I still admire the characteristics they displayed: strength, independence, intelligence, compassion and many other things I still try and aspire to be.
I also believe that if I chose another idol, say a softer or more domesticated character e.g. Smurfette, I may have ended up different. But again, I don’t 100% know. All I do know is that my idols, real and fictional, helped shape me as a girl and later, a woman.
And that is why I hope that the girls of today, including my own, pick idols that will add worth and value to their lives and help them become as strong, smart and wonderful as I truly know they can all be.
What about you? Who were your childhood idols? Who are your idols today?
Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. ~Henry David Thoreau
Has something ever happened to you that made you lose yourself? Have you ever done something that has made you question who you really are? What you stand for and what your beliefs are?
Or have you ever lost someone so important to you that you were left fragmented. Broken by their absence? Uncertain of how to fix the pieces they once took care of and helped to mould?
Have you ever felt so removed from your life that even in a crowded space or bustling family home you felt alone? So alone that all you wanted to do was scream so someone could hear the pain inside you?
Whether it be due to death, divorce, addiction, violence, illness, infidelity or other reasons, what happens to you when you feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you, causing you to lose your foundation in life or the people that mean the most to you?
When you feel so much pain inside that you choose to numb it however possible? When your insides are screaming, yet your exterior sits, nullified and silent, under the façade that is your functioning self.
When you lose yourself, your insides shatter.
Your foundation crumbles. The person you once thought you were disintegrates right before your eyes. And you are left floating on the debris of a broken foundation, not sure how to anchor yourself. Not sure how to find your way back to safety. Not sure you want to.
When this happens, how do you become whole again? How do you become the person you once were?
The answer is you don’t. You can’t. You cannot travel back in time to reclaim that person. You have to become the new you. The you that will carry the scars of your decisions, of your loss, of your mistakes, of your grief, of your fuckups and more.
And with the weight of this baggage you will rise. You will become who you were destined to be. There is only one way: and that way is forward. Will it be easy? No it won’t. It will test you more than the loneliness, the depression and your broken state of being. But you can do it. Slowly. One step at a time.
Your foundation will become whole again. But not the way it was. This time it will be a jagged puzzle of pieces. It will not be smooth. There will always be edges and cracks where you hurt is. Where your pain, grief or guilt is. But that’s ok. Because that’s where your wisdom is too. The lessons you have learned have created a stronger foundation than before. A better base from which to grow.
Will you fall again? Yes, sometimes you will. And that’s ok. We all do. But you will get back and keep going. You will keep moving forward. Living and loving, losing and learning. Because ultimately, you know that that there is a price. A price we all pay to live and love. And it’s a price you are willing to pay.
This blog post has been mulling in my mind for a while. I kept thinking: should I write it or not? Is it too much? I don’t want you thinking this is a ‘woe is me’ post or a pity party. But then I thought, if one person can gain an understanding of how hard it is to lose a parent, no matter what age you are, then it’s worth posting, so here goes.
It’s been nearly a decade since my father passed away. He didn’t survive a short but intense battle with cancer. He died on 16 June 2002. And when he was buried, a part of me was buried with him. My dad was my everything in terms of a parent. Now don’t get me wrong, I love and adore my mother – but to her I am the support, but my dad? He was my support. He was the one person who always ‘had my back’ and could see through my veneer in an instant – I could never fake happiness with him, he knew me like the back of his hand.
My father used to challenge me and encourage me. He made me believe that I was everyone’s equal. His constant aim was to instill a sense of confidence in me so I was never intimidated by anyone or anything.
He was a man that was ahead of his time, especially given he was an immigrant who had come from a poor country which didn’t have a history of strong females. His objective was for his daughter to get a good education and succeed in whatever endeavour she chose, because as he used to say ‘financial independence for a woman is a necessity – never rely on a man’.
As you would know, our parents help us to become the adults we are. They rear us, support us, let us fly from the safety of their nest and are there to catch us when we fall.
But I was not ready to leave that nest. When my dad died, many parts of me died too. Those parts that he helped mould: the confidence, self-belief, motivation – they all lost form, as they didn’t have the support they need, so they were buried with him.
I didn’t realise any of this at the time. I was just sad, angry and upset. Grieving. In retrospect I now realise I grieved for so many years in so many ways. From self-defeating beliefs to shutting down those parts of me he helped nurture. I shut off from any real emotional connection or happiness. I stopped listening to U2: their lyrics, which once sustained me and spoke to the heart, became words that reopened wounds that were scarcely recovering from his death, and I couldn’t deal with it.
Why write this? Because this is what happens when a parent dies. It doesn’t matter that it’s the ‘nature of things’ for parents to pass first. When they pass, part of your foundation is broken, and if you’re not ready for it, you break too. Condolences mean nothing to those who feel deserted by those they loved most.
Do you get over losing a parent? I don’t think so. There is scarcely a day that I don’t think of my dad. There are still times I feel hollow. And no matter how much time passes, sometimes the intensity of the grief still surprises me.
But have I moved on? Yes. When I had my first daughter I think a part of me unlocked and realised that the broken parts needed to be repaired if I was to be her support and her guide through life.
Her birth kicked off the exit out of my grieving phase. I had now started to create my own future – my family. I could see light and happiness instead of loss and sadness. I steadily started to recognise my behaviours for what they were: a loss of identity caused by the loss of the parent who predominantly shaped me.
As a sit here and write this, I have two girls who are the light and life of my life -and that’s what their names represent, because after many years of darkness they showed me that there is more. That there is an abundance of love in life.
That love, whether it be for a mother, father, son, daughter, sibling, friend etc is eternal.
And that eternal love is what I choose to take with me on my journey through life. I now know that I need to live the life my dad envisioned for me, to become the women he helped shape because whilst he may not be here in the flesh, I know that his eternal love would want this for me.
And the U2? After nearly 9 years of locking away the lyrics that once inspired and sustained me, that door re-opened with a mighty blast at their concert last year. Digging out that part of me was liberating: I finally felt like I could once again became the whole person I envisioned years ago.
